"Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. . "Won't you sit down?" "I beg your pardon! Come into the consultation office"; and the doctor led the way. ’ ‘Miss?’ gaped the soldier. "Si—lence!" vociferated Charcam, laying great emphasis on the last syllable. And he, her lawful husband, dared not go to her and console her! Accursed—all of them— Enschede, Ruth, and himself. “Would they make her Queen?” She asked innocently. As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension.
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